


Firt encounter - Eyes on Fire

by Touch_of_Moonlight



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cargsdoodles, Fee&Kee, Gay Bar, Hook-Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7868230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Touch_of_Moonlight/pseuds/Touch_of_Moonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Gimli thought this night was going to be as any other. Until he saw Him, and his eyes were set on fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firt encounter - Eyes on Fire

At first, I thought this night was going to be as any other. Much fun, much drinking, much laughing. And men. Everywhere. I enjoy those nights when, alone, I come to this club and meet new people. People like me. With the same, orientation.  
The music is deafening tonight, and I find that it adds to my pleasure, my heart pulsing in rythme to the beat.  
There are nights you remember. Tonight is definitly one of those, for it is the night we first met. This is the night I fell, hard and some will say foolishly, for the one that will be my fall, my ruin, and above all, will allow me to find my way. But that is another story.  
Tonight is good, and will become great. I have my pint, a cutesy at my side, smiling and looking at me under his black lashes, and at this moment I think I’ll be lucky tonight. Couldn’t be more right, for at this moment, I saw him. Our eyes met. And catch. His pale, blond hair catching the light, pale blue eyes, not leaving mine. And that oh-so-sexy muscular body, asking only to be licked, to be worshipped. I lick my lips, and his reaction is not wasted on me. I see a sparkle, a fire ignite in those eyes of his. Desire, raw and wild. Beautiful.  
As he approaches, the sweet brunette is completly forgotten. I only have eyes for this fire, moving, swiflty, dangerously, coming for me.  
Knowing a dismissal when he sees one, the brunette takes his glass and go, not without a bitter comment. But how can I bother, when the blond I am waiting for puts his arms on the bar, encircling me, draws near, so I can feel his interest pointing into my thight, and says, his voice low and heavy with desire :  
« I saw the way you look at me. I know what you want. Come. »  
And with that, he passes a thumb along my cheek, and turns to leave, without a second glance to see if I followed.  
I should have been shocked by such a behavior, offended to be treated as such, confused even. But there was no confusion in me at that moment. Only desire as I followed him to the backroom. Never been to one in the couple of years I frequented this clubs. But I think that darker the place, the more willing I would have been to follow him.  
\---  
It is dark indeed when I enter the backroom, and I hear more than I see that others are already busy in here. But I don’t have time to ponder much on this before I get flattened against the nearest wall (mercifully clear), his mouth on mine, his tongue ardent, demanding. We are close, oh so close, his body pressed against mine. Feeling his hand descending on me, I can’t help but moan, in what becomes a grunt when his hands begin to open my fly.  
Kissing his way down my face, my troat, he looks at me, on his knees, as he takes down my brief (I am so glad to have taken the time to pass by my room before coming). Head on the wall, I bit at my fist to keep my voice down, in vain, when he decide to answer my biting, with one of his own, on one of my hips. Arching, I feel his hands, flat on either side of me, maintening me againt the wall, preventing me of pushing into his mouth. His so talented mouth, encircling my lenght, time and time again.  
At last, when his hands are taking his mouth place, and I feel him more than I see him rise up, for I am so clouded by pleasure that I can’t seem to be able to open my eyes for more than a couple of seconds in a raw. I take my chance to give back, fumble a bit on his trouser, stroking him, and finally free him from the tightness of his brief. I see him close his eye at the contact of my fingers on this precise so sensitive part of his, and when he opens them again, there is that fierce light, that fire darkening his features. One hand near my head on the wall, he presses a kiss, french and passionate. And I stroke us, as if my life depends on it. I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m swallowed by this, by him, as I feel his jaw seeking the roughness of my own. And if when I finally come I can’t help the cry of pleasure that draws every eyes of the room on us, he silents his by biting my neck, hard. But at that moment, I can’t care less. I just had the better orgasm of my life, in a backroom, with the hotter guy I’ve seen in ages. Lucky night indeed, I can’t help but think as I button up my pants, grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I know, this isn't exactly a dream couple, but blame it on Cargsdoodle for putting those two together (in her Fee & Kee Book) ! This shot came when I thought about how Borg and Gimli would have met up, and eventually hooked-up. So here is my guess ! I thought of this story when I listened to the song Eyes on fire of Blue Foundation.  
> For information, I don't own anything, barely the plot, all belong to Tolkien and Cargsdoodle.


End file.
